Fifty Cents for an Art Lesson
by Catannie
Summary: Just for once, Naruto would like to be the one glancing smugly at Sasuke, instead of the other way 'round. Enter Sai, a mysterious child artist who may or may not be an evil assassin. Add a yo-yo, a few older brothers, and an art lesson or two...
1. Innocence

**Note**: Hey, everyone! This is your local Dark Lord with a brand new plot-bunny. To be honest, I haven't the faintest idea where I'm going with this, but by all means enjoy the ride!

* * *

**Fifty Cents for an Art Lesson**

_Chapter I. Art of Innocence**  
**_

The day was warm, the skies were blue, and Naruto was miserable.

"Darn Sasuke," the seven-year-old muttered angrily, scuffing his shoes on the dirt. "Why does he have to be so perfect all the time? It's not fair!"

He waited for some sort of response, but the birds in the tall trees only continued chirping contentedly. Naruto huffed in irritation at their rudeness, then turned around and continued ambling down the winding park trail. There was no point being angry if there wasn't anyone to hear about it.

The park, a small forest lurking near the edge of the village, belonged to the Naras. Naruto had found that it was a shadowy, unexplored, forbidden and therefore highly interesting place. A large fence sealed the area from the rest of the village, so not many people liked to hang around. Naruto didn't really have a problem hopping the gate, and he couldn't imagine why it put so many other people off from entering. Most of them were even taller than he was, so they'd have an easier time getting over. Maybe they were too fat.

He walked a bit further in the silence.

A squirrel skittered up a tree, and a large, furry caterpillar inched up a low-hanging maple branch.

Normally, such tempting events would be welcome diversions for the day's adventure. Today, it seemed that his thoughts were intent on returning to the one topic he hated most.

That stupid Sasuke.

It was all his fault.

Why did he have to be so good at everything, dammit!? It wasn't enough that he was taller than Naruto, and that for some reason Sakura-chan liked him better, and he already knew all the Academy's ninjutsu before Iruka-sensei taught them, or that he was better at arithmetic, or that he could run faster and longer than Naruto or anyone else, or that he was from some fancy clan that ran the police force. He always had to be better at everything.

And he was so smug about it! Always ignoring Naruto's demands for a rematch, and _grunting _at him in that superior way, and pretending he didn't exist, and even ignoring his beloved Sakura-chan and insulting her!

He was some kinda prodigy, Iruka-sensei had said to the assistant teacher, when he'd though all the students were out of earshot. Brilliant speed and reflexes. A level head and high levels of physical endurance. Remarkable strength. Quick to learn new things and remember them. Creativity and strategic thinking in battle. Highly intelligent, good memory, with an aptitude for all forms of combat. Unmatched instincts for battle and stealth.

(What he said about _Naruto _when he thought Naruto couldn't hear- well. It had been mostly unintelligible.)

There had to be _something_ Sasuke wasn't good at. Naruto had yet to find it.

Naruto paused and stomped in frustration.

Startled, the squirrel scampered away.

Then, feeling more aggravated than ever, Naruto plopped down at the base of a large oak tree.

It was old and mossy, with long twisting grey branches and browning leaves in mid-fall, and cast a wide net of shade over the soft green grass. It didn't get cold enough in Konoha for the trees to lose their leaves in winter. Instead, they lingered, fading to match the bark and the silver haze of moss in the branches. The grass was unusually soft and cool, feathery to the touch and not scratchy at all.

Maybe that was why the Naras were always sleeping outside: Naruto had always thought it was because they didn't have beds at home.

Distractedly, Naruto tugged on clumps of grass and tore big handfuls of green.

He tossed them in the air and watched the wind carry them away across the clearing. He tore larger handfuls and watched the blades tumble in the wind. With a shout, he tossed even more grass, and most of them fell on top of his head, making him sneeze. He tore another handful, smaller this time, and tried to see how far he could throw them. He tried to catch the wind just right so that the blades went all the way to the next tree.

He got up and chased them. He practiced some cartwheels. He tried to do three consecutively and he fell over onto the grass.

He stayed put for awhile, watching the clouds.

Seething.

After all, Sasuke could do _four_ consecutive cartwheels.

Irritated by this thought, Naruto sat up and attempted the feat again. Once more, he fell over. This time, he landed on a hard tree root instead of the soft grass, and he yelped in pain. A quick examination of his knee revealed that he had scraped it badly. The injury wouldn't last very long, but it hurt all the same.

Naruto lay back down under the tree.

The trees were rustling in a gentle wind. The birds were calling gently to one another. The earth was warm and comfortable beneath him, and the white, puffy clouds moved across the brilliant blue sky in their slow, meditative way. The scent of jasmine from the Nara gardens was sweet and lulled Naruto into soft drowsiness.

The forest was TOO peaceful.

Naruto took a deep breath and bellowed. "I hate you, Sasuke-teme!"

Absolutely nothing changed, except for now Naruto's throat stung a little.

"Whatever," Naruto said with a huff, rolling onto his side. "I don't care that you don't care, so just go away."

"I was here first," said a quiet voice.

Naruto yelped.

Heart pounding, he stumbled to his feet and into center of the clearing. He spun round to face the direction of the voice; his momentum made him fall over, nearly, but he caught himself. He pulled a kunai out of his holster and held it defensively- it was dull, he kept forgetting to sharpen it, but he could maybe whack- _whoever_ it was- in the head with it.

Silence ensued.

"Wha- who's there!?" His voice came out weak and unsteady.

He readjusted his sweaty grip on the kunai, so that it wouldn't slip from his hands.

The forest- previously so tranquil and familiar- seemed dark and threatening. The birds- he couldn't hear them. Had they gone silent, or was the roaring in his ears loud enough to drown them out? He couldn't feel the warm breeze anymore, and the air seemed cold, still, stagnant- choking. Yet it had to be blowing- otherwise why were the branches writhing in the trees? His heart spasmed in his chest, and his eyes were wide.

There was a movement of leaves, and Naruto's eyes snapped to the treetops.

A kid?

A boy his own age emerged from the branches of the tree that Naruto had been sitting under in the beginning. He jumped nimbly down from the tree that Naruto had been sitting under and landed in a neat crouch. Brushing off his hands on his pants, he stood up straight and fixed Naruto with a steady gaze. His eyes were dark and empty.

"As I said," he said coolly. " "You were the one who came in and started making all the noise. I believe that means that you are the one who ought to relocate."

Relief made Naruto's voice raw, and angry.

He lowered his kunai with slightly shaking hands and took a step forward. "What the hell is your problem?"

"What do you mean?" said the boy. He had a quiet voice, but no warmth. Empty.

"What do _you _mean?" demanded Naruto. "What kind of person lurks around in the trees and doesn't even tell anyone that he's there?"

"One that wishes not to be bothered." The dark-haired boy slipped a strapped bag over his head and glanced away carelessly. The monotone in which he said it only served to emphasize its pointedness.

Naruto burned with all the pride of a seven-year-old boy scorned.

"Are you looking for a fight?" he asked loudly, taking a step forward. "Who the heck are you, anyway?"

The boy shrugged, looking uncomfortable and disinterested. "I am not looking for a fight," he said mildly. "Though I think you may be. My name is Sai."

As if as an afterthought, he offered a hand to Naruto.

Of _all the nerve_!

Naruto stepped back. "I am not!" he declared, ruffled. "I only want to beat Sasuke, so there'd be no point fighting you even if I wanted to, so there!"

"So I gathered," said Sai, dropping his hand, evidently not offended by Naruto's refusal to shake.

"What are you doing here?" asked Naruto, curiosity overcoming his startlement and indignation. "I thought nobody but me and the Naras ever came to this forest."

"Yes," agreed Sai, "It is private property, and I imagine that most citizens are rather more conscious of regulations than you appear to be."

Naruto gazed at him, nonplussed. "You're here," he pointed out.

"Yes."

"So what are you doing?"

Sai hesitated, then shrugged. "I was drawing," he said.

Naruto laughed. It echoed strangely in the otherwise silent clearing, and Sai continued watching him without comment.

"Only _girls_ draw," said Naruto by way of explanation. It was, after all, one of the irrefutable truths of the universe. He smiled in satisfaction at having pulled the trump card of seven-year-old arguments.

Sai looked at him curiously. "That's not true."

"Is too," said Naruto, quite prepared for a lively session of _is-too-is-not_-ing. It was the sole competition which, mostly due to his inherent stubbornness, Naruto unfailingly won.

Sai did not rise to the bait. Instead he shrugged.

The silence extended, and Naruto just _had _to say something.

His curiosity got the better of him. "What were you drawing?"

"It is of no importance."

"Well, I wanna know!" He didn't _really_, but once denied an answer, he wouldn't give up until he had it.

"I do not wish to tell you."

"Please?"

"Asking twice has no effect on my lack of desire to tell you."

Naruto furrowed his brow and put his hands in his pockets. "You're weird."

Silence.

"Why don't you want to tell me?" he persisted.

Sai looked away.

"Hah!" Naruto declared in triumphant realization. "You just said it wasn't important, and then you said you don't wanna tell me, but if it really wasn't important, it wouldn't matter if ya told me or not, so I'm right, so you have to show me, so there!"

The dark-haired boy's face didn't change, but Naruto thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in the empty eyes.

"There is no benefit for me if I tell you. Thus, it would be an unnecessary expenditure of effort on my part."

"Eh? You want me to give you something?" Naruto cocked his head uncertainly and rummaged around in his pockets for money. He emerged with a half-eaten apple, a crayon, a seashell, a crumpled piece of paper, two shuriken, a dead leaf, a yoyo, three jellybeans and the receipt for twelve bowls of ramen at Ichiraku's. He held them out uncertainly to Sai.

The dark-haired boy twitched. Then, suddenly, his mouth tightened and he made a quiet sort of sound that was just barely distinguishable. But it was familiar.

Naruto stared in astonishment.

"So you can laugh!" he cried out, almost dropping his collection of treasures in his shock. "Jeez, I thought you were some kinda emotionless robot or something! 'Cause you talk all fancy like a grown-up, and you don't smile, an-"

Sai looked away. Naruto guessed embarrassment, although he couldn't tell at all by his face.

"Anyway," he continued, "I don't got any money, but you can have any of this stuff." He jerked his chin to indicate the 'treasures' in his cupped hands.

The other boy looked up, probably intending to refuse, but then he paused. Almost unsure, he lifted a hand- "What is... that?"

"Eh? What, the yoyo?"

"I am not familiar with that term."

"Ha! No, wait, I'm not laughing at you- I've just never met a guy who doesn't know what a yoyo is."

Silence.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Naruto, who was beginning to catch on to this offended-silence thing. "A yoyo is a toy sorta thing. If you want I can teach you how to use it?"

Sai looked up.

"Buuuuuut..." the blond said, shifting the motley collection to one hand, stuffing it into his pocket, holding up a hand with the air of a practiced haggler. "Only if you show me what you were drawing."

Silence again. Naruto was beginning to worry he'd messed up again.

After a moment, Sai nodded curtly. He slid his messenger bag off his shoulder and knelt down beside it. He unstrapped the flap and flipped it open. As he rummaged through its contents, Naruto caught sight of several scrolls in different colors, several bound sketchbooks, a thick hardcover book, some ink stones, and a bundle of long fancy-looking calligraphy-type brushes that you got at really expensive stores.

Sai pulled out one of the thin sketchbooks and stood. He flipped five or six pages in, then paused and offered the sketchbook to Naruto.

Naruto took it.

It was one of the trees across the clearing. Tall, elegant, ancient, gnarled. Rendered in black and white, just ink, in perfect detail.

_Dang!_

"Wow," he managed, after a few seconds of staring blankly. "This is incredible."

Sai didn't say anything. Shy? Smug? _Gosh darn it, why doesn't that guy show any freaking emotion ever? _

"No, seriously! It's really, really awesome!" said Naruto, banking on the former. "I could never draw something that good!"

Sai glanced at him briefly.

"I'll bet even Sasuke can't draw as good as you! That's really... wow."

Sai hesitated, then nodded. He snatched the sketchbook away from Naruto and flipped a few pages further. He paused, fingers hovering over the edge of the page, undecided, wavering. Then he firmed his grip, fingers stilled.

He offered Naruto the book, not meeting his eyes.

Naruto took it, uncertain.

It was like sunlight, he thought dazedly, gazing at the simple image. Warm, and bright, like sunlight. Looking at it, he felt warmth in his fingers as they held the book. Like a great, frozen knot somewhere inside him that he had never quite noticed was melting just a little, loosening, fading.

"This is... me?" he asked, voice wavering a little.

Sai glanced up at him through long, dark bangs. "You've become distressed," he observed.

"No!" said Naruto, a little too loudly. "No, I'm not- it's just-"

He paused. Sai watched him sidelong.

"I've never had anyone- I mean- I haven't-" he faltered. "No one's ever wanted to draw me before."

He looked up at Sai.

And then, suddenly, brightly, he grinned.

"I guess I'm just kinda flattered, is all," he said happily, hugging the sketchbook to his chest. "You're a really incredible artist."

Slowly, awkwardly, Sai smiled in return. "Yes."

Which... wasn't really the sort of thing you were supposed to say when someone said something nice to you, but Naruto was willing to let it slide. The small expression of emotion was more than Sai had shown yet, and talking at all was a huge improvement on the unresponsive silence.

"Hey," said Naruto, grinning even wider. "Wanna be friends?"

Sai stopped smiling. The small light in his eyes faded a little, and reverted to emptiness.

"I am not permitted to have friends."

Naruto's grin faded.

The light in his eyes did not.

"Then," he said, "How about teaching me how to draw?"

* * *

It was late that night when Sai returned to his barracks.

He reported to the Division Captain first, of course. His mission had been simple that day: in the early morning, the location and containment of several overly talkative civilian would-be revolutionaries (Really just malcontents, none of them were really threatening. Still, Konoha was resolute. There was to be no deviation from her absolute rule.) and escorting them to Root's 'rehabilitation center'; then, later on, the observation of suspected double-agents; and finally, in the afternoon, reconnaissance along the eastern border in the outskirts of the Nara forest.

It was the duty of Root's ANBU to maintain peace and security in the Hidden Leaf Village.

Sai was still young, much weaker and less experienced than the other members of his unit, and out of all of his age group who had survived the harsh training so far, he was the smallest and the most physically fragile. However, he was also the nimblest, the quietest, and the most resourceful of his team. He could extinguish his chakra pattern and creep in the shadows, unseen. Due to all of these factors, he was the logical first choice for low-class stealth missions and recon duty.

The Division Captain asked if there had been any unusual activity in the Nara forest.

Sai, acting as a good soldier should, recounted the entire conversation between himself and the other boy. He waited for his punishment.

The Division Captain did not frown. He was better trained than that.

Sai's punishment, when it came, was painful. He had not expected otherwise. He did not scream.

He returned to his team shelter with a jaw sore from clenched teeth.

"Sai!" came the cheerful cry as he opened the door to the shelter. There was a sudden flurry of motion and he was engulfed in a wide, warm hug. "I thought you'd got yourself lost in the forest, and I'd have to come rescue you." The person pulled back and ruffled his hair. "Though I suppose if you were to get lost anywhere, it'd be in a mouse hole- or an anthill!"

A wave of dizziness swept Sai, and he fought to keep his knees from buckling.

"Sai? Sai!" the voice said, suffused with concern now, "Oh, damn, Sai, what happened to you? You're really pale- did you go to the medic?"

Sai reached out a hand and grasped the side of a metal cot. He lowered himself slowly onto it, trying to keep from wincing- a good soldier did not show pain. He had kept his face blank during the punishment, silenced his cries of pain in his throat before they could grow into sound. He had made it through the entire punishment without so much as a twitch, and the pain was far less now. He would not give in to his own weakness after getting so far.

His nails dug into his palm. Sweat beaded on his temple. He breathed.

Moments passed, and the rolling agony in his gut faded into a dull, manageable hurt. His mind cleared and his vision grew sharper, clearer, colder. He breathed again. It was just pain. The punishment seal inflicted no physical injury on the agents- just pain. Pain was an illusion produced by the mind. There was no torn flesh, no blood, no bruise, no burning, searing welt. There was no injury- it was just a stimulation of neural pathways in his brain that led to a false recognition of a wound in the amydala. He was not injured. The pain could be ignored.

Slowly, he caught his breath. Looked up and met his older brother's concerned gaze. "I'm fine," he said with a perfect smile on his face. "How are you today, onii-san?"

Sai's older brother gave him a skeptical look. "You got your seal activated- moron. Something happen during your mission? I thought you had it easy today- just recon, right?

"I... had an encounter with a civilian. Nothing came of it."

"Liar."

Sai didn't say anything, just lay down slowly on his thin aluminum-framed cot, ignoring his pounding head. He let out a soft puff of breath, closed his eyes as if he was about to go to sleep, knowing that he was the picture of weak, weary exhaustion.

His brother didn't move, just waited.

Eyes still closed, Sai reached into the bag at the edge of the bed and pulled out a worn sketchpad. He tossed it to the other boy.

Heard the sound of paper hitting the palm of a hand, being flipped over, heard the soft, crisp rustling of pages being turned. He waited, mind dazed and wandering from the residual pain. Waited to observe, gauge his brother's response, and from that observation to deduce the best course of action.

A soft exhale of breath- a laugh? Sai opened one eye.

His brother was smiling- he ought to learn not to show his emotions so easily- and his eyes were lit in the way that meant it was real happiness, not bitter happiness or angry happiness or sad happiness or proud happiness- humans had so many infinite facets of emotion that it was a constant struggle to keep them all straight in his head.

"I like it," said his brother. "It's warm."

"He- he was warm. It isn't my picture- that's how he was." Sai was growing drowsy, and his words were making less sense. "Warm- like sunlight."

"Did you talk to him?"

Had he? Sai could hardly remember. A wide smile and a loud voice- oh. "Yes," said Sai.

"And the Captain? What did he say?"

"After-" Sai raised a hand to his head. "-after that, he checked with HQ. I'm assigned to- recon duty, all over again. You know."

"Really?" said his brother, surprised. "Why- oh. It's the bijuu host, isn't it."

"Yes."

"Cute kid," he said thoughtfully, glancing down at the sketchbook. "Kind of small- and bouncy-looking."

"He reminded me of you," said Sai fuzzily. His eyelids kept drooping shut despite his best efforts. "Loud. Irritating."

"Jeez, so much for affection."

"And- warm." Sai was befuddled. "Why-? So loud and stupid and weak- but warm- bright. And he smiled- like sunshine..."

His brother was laughing.

"Go to sleep, Sai. I'll turn in your mission report."

And then he tucked the sketchbook back into the bag, and tossed Sai a blanket. Too tired to move, Sai fell asleep then and there. His exhaustion overwhelmed him and his eyelids slipped shut, and blissful unconsciousness hit him like a ten-ton boulder, and he was out.

He hadn't even taken off his sandals.

And Sai, who normally had no dreams at all, dreamed. The hazy recollection of a warm day in autumn, and a tree in a peaceful clearing, and the scent of jasmine blossoms in the woods, and a loud boy who wandered in with his blue eyes like the sky and hair like the sun, and a face, constantly changing, filled with all the millions of different facets of emotion that humans had inside. An honest face that spoke as clearly as words, right from the heart. An innocent's face.

The shinobi in Sai knew that his action was wrong as he began to draw. The mission, always the mission. He needed to be alert. He was on watch. If the boy was a threat, he was lowering his guard to an unknown entity. If not, he was paying undue attention to a purely peripheral element. But the artist in Sai was resolute. The boy was meant to be drawn. He had to- he was born for that purpose, Sai could feel it. He was so full of life, fairly bursting at the seams with vitality and emotion and that _warmth._

They would meet again.

They would.


	2. Anticipation

**A/N:** And life is such that I bring you a second chapter. The world is a funny place, is it not?

* * *

**Fifty Cents for an Art Lesson**

_Chapter II. Art of Anticipation _

"Sorry, I can't," Naruto said, wide grin belying his apologetic tone. "I'm meeting with a friend after class."

Kiba gave him a kind of startled, strange look: after all, this was Naruto, the class loser. They might hang out sometimes, but they weren't more than classmates. The concept of anyone having enough patience to tolerate him for long periods of time was a foreign one- let alone the possibility of him having friends. He just sort of hung around. Naruto? Having friends?

No way.

But no, he was smiling so brightly it couldn't be a lie.

Naruto, at the very least, really believed that he was going to see a friend.

"Kay, then," Kiba said, rubbing a cheek. "See ya later, dude."

As he moved on down the line of desks to ask Chouji instead, Naruto leaned back with a happy laugh. This was so great! He'd never had a proper meeting with a friend before- the kind that was prearranged with just one other person, because you both wanted to hang out together. Not to mention it felt really cool to tell people that he was already busy: and he'd only told Kiba and old man Ichiraku and Sakura and Shino and Sasuke and the custodian, so far.

Actually, he'd been really surprised when that Sai kid showed up again that morning.

The day before, when he'd asked him to teach him how to draw, he hadn't really been expecting that much of a response. A yes, maybe. More probably, another refusal and a session of pestering. But that hadn't been the case. Sai had just taken a step back from him, and vanished in a puff of wind and leaves. When Naruto called out his name, he hadn't answered. And when he'd tried to look at the picture in the sketchbook once more, he found that he was no longer holding the book at all, but he couldn't even remember when he'd returned it.

Then, that morning as he stepped out of his apartment building, Sai had been there.

Sai had _been there_.

There, on the edge of the balcony.

Naruto hadn't had any clue how Sai knew where he lived- maybe he'd asked around? Anyway, there he was, unmistakeable with his dark hair and eyes. He wore the same overlarge white T-shirt and long dark pants that he had the day before, and the leather messenger bag was slipped over his head to rest on his shoulder. There was no mistake.

"I'll teach you how to draw," he had said, without waiting for Naruto to speak. "This afternoon, at the clearing."

And then he had stepped back and raised his hands, like a handseal, and Naruto was reminded suddenly of the day before when he had just vanished without another word. So Naruto had opened his mouth to say something, anything, to just keep him there for a moment longer.

"I'll bring my yoyo!" he had called out.

Sai had paused, nodded, and vanished.

But he had agreed. And even though they weren't friends yet- quite- this was the sort of thing that you did with friends, right? You talked and spent time with each other, and you maybe taught each other some new things, like yoyoing and drawing. And maybe if they did things like friends did, for a while, Sai would forget that he wasn't supposed to be friends with Naruto and they'd be friends for real.

Sai had promised. He'd be waiting in the clearing.

He would be there.

* * *

Shin's little brother was distracted during the morning's mission briefings. It was almost imperceptible: a dullness of the eyes and the looseness of his motions. The captain didn't notice, or if he did, he didn't mention it. Doubtless it would go in the day's report to Danzo- but Sai was reliable, and a few demerits would put him in no danger of punishment or dismissal.

Still, Sai was rarely so preoccupied.

Shin tried to tell himself that it was really his concern as a good older brother- and it was, partly- but really it was mostly curiosity that made him approach Sai after the meeting. What could he say? He just had an adventurous mind.

"Sai!" he called, jogging towards the slim, dark-haired kid. "What's up today? Get a special mission?"

"Not really."

_So you're gonna be sneaky about it._ Shin grinned. _Well, that just makes it more fun._ "Come on, whatcha got?" He reached out and tried to snag Sai's mission scroll, but his little brother stepped neatly away from his lunge.

_Well, if that's how it's gonna be..._ he nimbly darted around the smaller boy, ducking behind his back. Sai was already turning, ready to lash out with a few heavy strikes, probably planning to follow up with a joint lock. Shin made his move: dodged the blows and sidestepped the kick, then while his brother was still recovering from the follow-through, he looped an arm around Sai's neck in a headlock.

And then gave him the greatest noogie of his life.

It was, after all, the older brother's prerogative.

Sai let out a breath, sounding altogether too exasperated for an eight-year old. "Onii-san," he said with a barely audible tinge of annoyance, "Please let go of me."

Shin acquiesced, releasing his brother. Sai stepped back and readjusted his shoulder bag, giving Shin a _look_. The older boy gave a bright smile in return-

And slid open Sai's mission scroll.

Just for a moment, Sai stared a little.

He recovered his dignity in a moment, of course, but Shin relished the moment for as long as it lasted. You didn't usually get to take him by surprise, and these days especially he was getting to be downright depressing. It wasn't like they knew for sure, but he couldn't be more than, like, _eight. _Where was his youthful recklessness?

Being the immature one all the time was _exhausting._

"Please return my scroll."

Shin considered. "Don't wanna."

"It contains confidential information. I must insist."

The older boy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah, right," he agreed. "Like that's gonna stop me."

And he opened the scroll, glancing at the contents.

_Let's see... Looking fairly straightforward, just some more recon- this can't be what he got so worked up about. Guard duty, too. Interrogation- know he doesn't like those, but that's still routine. Stealth mission, tailing some people, info gathering. No different from last week. It doesn't look like they've even restricted him at all after the deal yesterday._

"I give up," he said, sliding the scroll shut. "Are you sick or something?"

Sai gave him a blank look. "I am not."

"Then what's up with you?" he demanded. "You're all... distracted and thoughtful and _weird_, and you're not being sarcastic or insulting me or anything." That was what really _really_ worried him; Sai _never_ went so long without a barbed comment, and normally he'd never have let Shin get the scroll from him in the first place. He was completely off his game.

His little brother blinked. "I am never sarcastic."

Shin rolled his eyes. There was just no acceptable response to a statement like that.

"Do you want me to insult you?" inquired Sai. "If it would make you feel better-"

And then he paused as his older brother covered his face with his hands and gave a rueful laugh. "No thanks," he said, leaning against the wall. "I'm going to regret getting into this, I just know it." He dropped his hands.

Took a breath, and began again.

"Seriously, what's up?"

* * *

"What's up, Iruka-sensei?"

The teacher looked up and smiled. "Hello, Naruto," he said cheerfully. "I'm just finishing up these papers."

(Naruto had a sneaking suspicion that Iruka's good spirits increased in inverse proportion to the amount of destruction he had managed that week. This week's production had been rather slow as of yet, and the teacher was practically glowing with optimism. Seriously, he was going to have to work overtime to meet his chaos quota, or risk breaking a personal record three years in the making.)

"Huh." The blond child hummed, leaning on the edge of Iruka's desk curiously. "I don't remember taking this test," he observed.

Well, that didn't necessarily mean that he _hadn't_, but still, it might at least have looked familiar.

"Hm?" Iruka looked up. "Oh, these aren't for your class. I'm grading these for Akemi-sensei. You know she's on maternity leave, so we all have to lend a hand."

"Ohhh..." Naruto trailed off, lingering.

"Hey, sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Hmmm, never mind."

"What is it?"

"Nope, it's nothing."

"Okay."

A pause.

"Sensei, what's-" Naruto squinted at the upside-down scrawl on the paper and tried mouthing the word silently for a moment. "-what's 'catra'?"

"Hm?" Iruka blinked and looked up. "What's that?"

"Catra," Naruto repeated. "What is it?"

"What? Where?"

He pointed to the messy upside-down scrawl.

"Ah." Iruka laughed. "That's 'chakra'," he explained in an amused tone. "That's what shinobi use to perform techniques- an internal energy. You'll start covering the basics of chakra next semester; mostly just theory, but by October you should be able to feel it, and we'll begin practicing to move your chakra in December."

"Really? So when I learn catra-" he caught Iruka's pointed look and cleared his throat- "I mean, charka-"

(Iruka muttered something along the lines of 'close enough.')

"-I'll be able to do really awesome techniques? And I'll be able to be a really awesome ninja hero, and all the bad guys are gonna be _so_ scared, they'll all run away and hide, and then I'll save the day, and I'll become Hokage, and everyone will think I'm just the awesomest guy ever! And then I'll finally beat Sasuke, too, dattebayo!"

"... I suppose that's possible," Iruka said noncommittally. The Ninja Academy didn't usually approve of the usual 'follow your dreams and reach far' rhetoric, but it wasn't like it could do any harm. Besides, Naruto deserved a little extra encouragement to make up for the deficit of normal childhood affection.

With that thought in mind, he considered.

He might- just barely, mind- have enough.

"Naruto," Iruka said cheerfully, quashing the part of his mind that wailed in mourning for his pocketbook. "I was thinking of heading to Ichiraku. Do you want to come along? It'll be my treat."

Every inch of the blond eight-year-old lit up in delight. This was a pretty normal reaction.

And then- this part was absolutely _not_ normal- he wilted.

"Um..." he said, downcast. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Oh? Why's that?" Because, honestly, Iruka couldn't think of _anything_ Naruto would prioritize over _free ramen_. Unless- "-You aren't up to some insane plot again, are you? You aren't- aren't leading the Inuzuka puppies to the Akimichi compound, or putting pepper on the ceiling fans, or putting vinegar in the Hokage's tea, or- or- or _painting the Hokage monument with graffiti_-"

"-hey!" Naruto cried. "I resent that remark! Wait, that's actually a really interesting idea..."

Iruka resisted the impulse to bang his head repeatedly against his desk.

"But no, I'm not actually plotting." Naruto's half-smile grew into a full-blown grin. "I've got a meeting with a friend this afternoon!"

_Not what he had expected._

And not necessarily a pleasant surprise, either.

It was good, of course, to see Naruto smiling so warmly and brightly. How many times had Iruka wished that the lonely blond boy could have some real friends? The children in Naruto's class weren't _usually_ cruel to him outright (Iruka had dealt sternly with the troublemakers who were), only standoffish. To hear that Naruto was going to meet with a friend- not a classmate, a _friend_- whom he honestly seemed to like should have had Iruka glowing with proud delight for the rest of the week.

He should be happy. He wanted to be happy for his student- his favorite, most frustrating, most resilient, most _creatively destructive_ student, who really, really deserved something like this to happen.

Except-

"Naruto," Iruka said carefully, trying to think how to approach this. "Which friend is this?"

If possible, Naruto's grin widened even further. "I forgot- you don't know him, Sensei- his name's Sai! He's really quiet and he when he _does_ talk, he talks like a grown-up or someone out of a book or something, it's really crazy. And he's really good at drawing and stuff."

He nodded slowly, thinking hard. "Where did you meet him?"

"Well, I was hanging out in the Nara forest-"

"Naruto! That's _trespassing_."

"-and he pops out from _nowhere_, like a real-life ninja; except he's not, he's the same age as me, I think. Anyway, he was super snippy and used a whole lot of big words, but he didn't even know what a yo-yo was! And he's an amazing painter: he drew this awesome picture of a tree, and then he did a picture of me, and it was really cool!"

Damn.

Naruto's rambling dialogue contained a whole lot of clues that were being slowly pieced together in Iruka's head. And while he didn't have all the answers yet-

Well, it added up to something ominous.

A _mysterious_ boy just exactly Naruto's own age, just _happen__ing_ to show up in the Nara forest (out of nowhere, like a _ninja, _or something) precisely when Konoha's only jinchuriki was present and _alone_. Not only did he show up from nowhere and disappear to nowhere, but he conveniently managed to _befriend_ Konoha's aforementioned jinchuriki _and _arrange a followup meeting.

Iruka was a _ninja_.

Ninja didn't do coincidences: they did plots.

How easy would it be, he wondered. To henge into a young child (or even just send an eight-year-old ninja: as much as the thought made him wince, Iruka knew that there was no shortage of child operatives in certain organizations) and approach the young boy in the middle of a deserted forest, dressed like a civilian child? It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done.

All it would take was a plan and a little determination.

To slowly lure the young, impressionable Jinchuriki into a friendship with a boy his own age would be simple, since Jinchuriki were frequently shunned in their home villages. First an acquaintance, then a friend, then a confidant: even if they failed to subvert Naruto's loyalties, it would be easy to lead him into a trap. A seal master could probably do something to prevent the Bijuu from taking over and rampaging, and once they did that they could easily drug him and place a genjutsu compulsion over him to keep him under control until they figured out how to use him.

Or, failing that, they could simply kill him and reseal the beast into a new, more malleable container.

And that, he knew, was only one of thousands of possible dangerous motives. It didn't even necessarily have to be someone from another village. There were certainly missing-nin that would be willing to capture him and sell on the black market, and mercenaries who would sell him to the village with the highest bidder, and even subversive factions of Konoha who thought the Jinchuriki could be much more... _usefully_ applied.

Iruka's blood ran cold.

"Naruto," he said, gently, softly. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Confusion. "Huh?"

"I don't know if this Sai person is trustworthy," he explained, hating the way that Naruto's eyes were growing wide and solemn and hurt. "It's dangerous for you to meet up with him all alone, when you don't know who he is or where he's from."

"I don't-" Naruto looked away. "Why does that matter? Just because I don't know who his parents are or what clan he's from- what difference does any of it make? Isn't it enough that I know him, and he knows me, and we both want to make friends with each other?"

Ouch. Iruka was very aware that 'Sai' was not the only one with mysterious origins, and Naruto was very touchy about the subject of parents.

"That's not what I mean," he said instead. "It's just- there are a lot of very untrustworthy people out there, and I don't want anyone to take advantage of you. I'm worried about you, that's all."

Naruto's face smoothed out. "Well, that's all right, then. Don't worry, Sai's really nice."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! He's going to teach me how to draw!"

"How to... draw?"

Okay, so maybe he couldn't see how that would lead to an immediate goal in respect to influencing the Kyubi Jinchuriki. But that did not necessarily mean that Naruto was out of danger. It could simply be a ploy to gain Naruto's affection. If the blond child had expressed an interest in the subject, how easy would it be for an undercover operative to latch onto that and use it as leverage?

Iruka already knew the answer: it would be far, far too easy.

"Yep! He drew a picture of me, remember? It was really, really good. Like, a photograph or something. And it felt like..."

"Like?" The teacher prompted.

Naruto glanced aside, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Looking at the picture- it felt like he was drawing it with- I don't know really- a warm feeling. I guess? No one's ever wanted to draw me before, and he drew me, and it was a really friendly picture."

And Iruka just couldn't argue.

With a smile and a gnawing worry in his heart, he reached out a hand and ruffled Naruto's spiky blond hair.

"All right, then," he said. "Go on and meet with 'Sai.'"

Naruto brightened.

"But-" Iruka said, holding up a hand preemptively. "I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

The teacher slid open a desk drawer and rummaged through the contents until he found what he was looking for. When he withdrew his hand, he held a small crumpled slip of paper; a seal imbued with concentrated chakra. There was black ink calligraphy on it, and it looked a little like an exploding tag, but the characters were different.

It was, in fact, a form of amulet seal.

"I want you to keep this on you- no, not in your bag, you'll absolutely lose it that way- preferably you'd pin it on the inside of your shirt, or something like. If you don't want to do that, tuck it into the cuff of your sandal. Just make sure you always have it with you, and _don't_ lose it."

"What is it?"

"It's a seal- it's not dangerous at all, but it _will _keep me notified of your general location relative to me. Also, if you feel like you're in danger- legitimate danger, mind, so no pranks- you can tear it in half and there will be a chakra flare. It's the official emergency signal, so all the ninja within twenty-five miles will be on high alert.

"You need to be very careful not to set off the signal unless it is an emergency- but if it _is_ an emergency, do _not_ hesitate to set it off. Is that okay?"

Naruto frowned. "Okay, I guess. But Sai's a good guy, I know he is!"

Iruka just smiled. "Go on. Have fun, and be careful."

* * *

"So today you're meeting with the Jinchuriki, huh?" Shin pondered it. "Reconnaissance: so you're posing as a civilian kid and trying to make friends with him. Trying to win his loyalties, or just get a hold on him?"

Sai, silent and stone-faced, did not acknowledge Shin's presence in the least.

"What the hell made the commander pick _you?_" Shin jibed gently. "You're just about the least charming guy in the squad. He really should've picked a guy like me- charismatic, handsome, talented, brilliant. I just ooze charm, don't I?"

His little brother rolled his eyes.

Well, at least it was a reaction. Sai seemed incredibly freaked out by the prospect of meeting with the wacky blond kid who housed the Kyubi, and when Sai was freaked out he tended to revert to his default mode of engagement: rock-like.

"Do you really hate the kid that much? What'd he do to you?"

Mute, Sai shook his head.

Wait...

"You actually like him, don't you?"

And there was the answer, right in the sudden blink and the hunch of small shoulders and the distracted look on Sai's face that wasn't just worry or distress; it was confusion, plain and simple.

There was only one thing that would cause Sai confusion.

He knew how to deal with all negative emotions that might impede his duty. Every Root trainee had that ability hammered into him before he was able to properly read, or write, or throw his first kunai. Sai would not let such petty concerns affect his performance for such a long period of time. He would meditate on it and discard his personal emotions and excel, because Shin's little brother was the perfect shinobi.

Shin knew because he'd seen it.

But Sai wasn't _quite_ a perfect shinobi. When he went undercover, he could function just fine as a normal person- until he opened his mouth. He had absolutely no sense of atmosphere or manners, and he had a critical eye and a brutally honest disposition. Shin would place a bet that Sai could successfully annoy any living creature on the face of the planet into raving, drooling insanity.

But his cute little brother was now faced with a person that he actually liked, and his carefully constructed world was falling apart. No wonder he was so confused.

Shin reached out and ruffled Sai's hair.

"Go on. Have fun, and be careful," he said.

Sai didn't smile, but he took a deep breath and shouldered his bag. "Moron," he said uncaringly. "You're stupider than I thought. You're almost ten minutes late to your team assembly, and by the time you get there you'll get at least a dozen demerits. I can't believe you actually call yourself a shinobi. You're such a disgrace."

Meaning: _Thanks for worrying. I'll be fine, so look after yourself._

Or at least, that's what Shin hoped it meant.

But as he checked his watch and winced, and scrambled to pick up his own things, he couldn't suppress a warm smile. He was so proud- his little brother making real friends at last. He hoped it would turn out well. He couldn't really see the way to happiness, but there was always one there if you looked hard enough.

Shin closed his eyes and recalled a young, childish voice.

_"I don't draw people." _

And thought: _Maybe he's just really shy, after all_._  
_

And _that_ thought made him laugh. Because, after all, it was just so _true._

* * *

"If all you have said is true, then we ought to be concerned indeed," the Hokage said gravely. "You were right to come to me with this information, Iruka. We must do our best to protect Naruto from those who seek to take advantage of him."

"May I speak, Hokage-sama?" Iruka asked.

"Certainly."

"If this 'Sai'- if he proves to be no threat, I would ask that Naruto be permitted to continue the friendship. I believe it means very much to him, and I would hate to cause him any unnecessary pain."

"Your concerns will be noted."

This was a clear dismissal. Iruka bowed his head and left.

When the teacher had left, the Sandaime was silent for a moment. He slid open a desk drawer and produced a long thin pipe and some tobacco. He lit the pipe and puffed on it for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, and then puffed out a thin stream of white-gray smoke. Then he stood up from behind his desk, pushing his chair out from behind him with the back of his legs. He moved around the side of his desk to stand in the very front.

Then he spoke, seemingly to an empty room.

"I'd like you to shadow Naruto Uzumaki. Keep an eye on him for the next few days, especially this afternoon. Report back on the other."

There was a flicker of almost-darkness, and then there was suddenly a presence in the corner of the room.

"Understood, Hokage-sama."

"Dismissed."

And then the ANBU captain Kakashi Hatake seemed to vanish from existence once more, gone to perform his newest duty. Because if there was anyone who could be absolutely trusted with the protection of one of Konoha's most valuable individuals... well.

Kakashi _always_ did the job right.


	3. Interaction

**A/N:** I really, really cannot believe that I have made it to chapter 3. I have impressed myself.

For the curious, here's why Sarutobi, Kakashi, and Iruka don't immediately say, "Duh, Danzou":

_It could be anyone_. Literally, anyone. If this was Kabuto sneakily approaching Naruto, then you'd all be asking me why they didn't pick up on how it was obviously Orochimaru's doing. If Haku had approached Naruto trying to gain the power of the Jinchuriki for Zabuza, then Zabuza would be the first person to come to mind. But that's because you know the truth, and when you see Sai you associate him with ROOT.

The thing is, Sai could be _anyone_. He could be working for any of the five shinobi nations, any missing-nin, any traitor, any criminal organization, any ambitious evil mastermind. He could be working for Mizuki, or Sasori, or Kumo, or the Hyuga. And Sarutobi and Kakashi are smart enough to know not to jump to conclusions.

* * *

**Fifty Cents for an Art Lesson**

_Chapter III: Art of Interaction_

Sai, for the first time in his life that he could remember, was anxious.

At least, he thought he might be- it was hard to say. Since he really couldn't recall ever feeling quite as he did then, he didn't have any prior experience that would better enable him to categorize the emotions that he currently felt. It was rather uncertain, but according to his social interaction textbooks, the somatic symptoms he was now experiencing correlated most strongly to the emotion of anxiety.

He really should just put aside all those sorts of nagging thoughts and focus on the mission.

The problem was that anxiety was just so _unpleasant_. If it was purely mental, like anger or frustration, he could have used meditation techniques to clear his mind and become calm. Likewise, purely physical feelings of discomfort could be ignored as a low priority. This, however, was a strange sort of fusion, both visceral and cognitive, that tangled his thoughts while simultaneously resulting in the biological reactions to emotional stressors.

His stomach was feeling strange, tense and heavy. Sai knew it was probably the result of his body registering his cognitive distress and reacting naturally by triggering his sympathetic nervous system into signaling neural pathways to glands which excreted adrenaline and other stimulating hormones. His brain would be reacting to a perceived potential threat by increasing his heart rate and his breathing, causing his pupils to dilate and and his blood vessels to contract, and blood to be withdrawn from his internal organs and his stomach, halting the digestive process.

Uncharacteristically, knowing the source of his discomfort did not bring relief.

From this, Sai inferred that he was in need of some quiet meditation to restore clarity. It was a pity that there was no time for it.

Sai was waiting in the empty clearing for Naruto Uzumaki.

And waiting.

And waiting.

And...

"He's late," Sai murmured to himself.

Not that such behavior was anomalous for the Kyubi jinchuriki.

Sai had been given the blond kid's file to read and memorize, so he'd have more context with which to analyze Uzumaki's behavior and form hypotheses. It had been rather brief: it seemed that many powerful people were determined that Naruto's data be kept private. It was telling that even the very best operatives- for surely the Commander had only sent the best- had only been able to gather such basic information about Naruto's background.

Sai was not ignorant of the opportunity he posed for the leaders of his organization.

He had no parents, no background, no real name, no documents- but most importantly, he had no verifiable connection to any shinobi group. He could never be traced back to Root- he was just a trainee, and due to certain ethical laws the Commander was not allowed to make them _official_ ANBU members until they turned twelve, not without a special dispensation from the Hokage.

Those were troublesome for... certain reasons.

Besides, sometimes it was easier if you had a few operatives that the Hokage didn't need to know about.

Sai cast back into his memory for the 'file', a patchwork of brief, vague reports.

_Naruto Uzumaki: birthday, October 10, 332. Underweight for his age group but not for his body mass. Blond hair and blue eyes. True name, according to agent in the Archives. Mother: Kushina Uzumaki, deceased in year 332. Her file has been destroyed and replaced with a fake, but we were able to find a record of a travel visa for a 12-year-old female of the same name who moved permanently to Konoha from Uzushiogakure in year 310. It seems that many of those who knew her have voluntarily submitted to memory wiping procedures. Interrogations have proved inconclusive._

_Father unknown; his name has been thoroughly erased from any and all records. We could find no leads. Little is known about the mother's personal interactions, and the number of possible candidates is so large that his identity may not be presumed. None of the candidates currently in the village seems to show undue affection for him that may be deemed parental; likewise, results are inconclusive._

_The subject was primarily raised in an orphanage until the age of seven. Little is known about his early childhood, except that he was never reported to have fallen ill or to have been subjected to bodily harm through intentional or accidental means. At age seven he was transferred to the Ninja Academy and is permitted to live alone in a heavily-warded apartment building. He receives weekly pensions directly from the Hokage and food and rent are also being provided free of charge from the War Orphan fund.  
_

_Uzumaki's exact test scores could not be found, but our understanding is that they are quite low so far. He is smaller and weaker than most of his male classmates and some of the females. He does not show much aptitude for stealth, strategy, or basic taijutsu. His academic scores are reputedly the worst of his class. There is no evidence of power gained from the bijuu. He has been known to have above-average stamina compared to what he should have, but in combination with his small stature it is no more than his classmates'._

None of it was much use, Sai decided with a frown.

A mother without a history and no father. A perfectly unremarkable childhood, for a war orphan. Mediocre to abysmal scores in class and no talent whatsoever. No evidence that the Kyubi sealed inside him had any effect at all.

He might as well have been a normal kid.

"Except..." Sai trailed off, uncertain how to put it into words.

Naruto Uzumaki.

Sai had felt the itch to draw the moment he'd seen the kid in the orange T-shirt. He _never_ drew people; once or twice he'd had the itch to draw his older brother, but he hadn't so far. Humans were different. They weren't like animals, who existed honestly and simply and just _were_. People were inscrutable, multi-faceted, shadowy.

It was like trying to catch minnows in a pond: you could see them, reach for them, but then the smooth water would shatter into a million glimmering lights and you were left soaking wet with an empty hand. Water twisted the light just enough that where you saw the minnows was just a fraction away from where they actually were.

There was something _animal_ about Naruto Uzumaki.

Not like the Inuzuka. They bred dogs, and dogs were so domesticated that they were too much like people. Even though they still had some of the same instinctive behaviors and reactions, their dogs had lost some of the basic roughness and dignity that undomesticated animals had naturally. Too much focus on pride, and dominance, and not enough independence. Just wildness. Dogs didn't like the human lies and deceptions and they didn't understand a lot of the emotions of people, but they were loyal to humans and they would willingly take part in such things at their companions' behest.

Naruto's face was honest, and _warm_.

Sai knew that he shouldn't have drawn Naruto Uzumaki.

He also knew that he would draw Naruto again.

* * *

_ANBU Mission Log_

_Kakashi Hatake, ID No. 13815_

_The operative (hereafter referred to in first person) assumed the surveillance and protection of the subject (hereafter referred to by surname Uzumaki) from possible threat (assumed name to be 'Sai') at approximately 13:34 hours. Prior intel suggested that contact would be made in mid-afternoon, and all ANBU sentinel recon teams were put on high alert for the next twenty-four hours. Uzumaki was also provided with a mid-level emergency flare and cautioned to take care; however, it is doubtful whether he accurately perceives the danger of his own situation._

_This unconcern was evident as he proceeded to spend two and a half hours wandering about town and taking part in various unimportant, childish adventures. (e.g., digging up worms, speaking with classmates, scrawling graffiti on public walls.) This behavior continued until (estimated) time of 16:00. At this point, he began to travel in the direction of the designated rendezvous point, a small clearing in the private sector of the woods near the Nara compound. _

_There, he made contact with 'Sai.'_

* * *

Naruto couldn't _quite_ keep himself from grinning in relief as he entered the clearing.

_He came!_

Sai was sitting in the clearing, under the same tree that he had been sitting in yesterday. He was wearing a black T-shirt and the same messenger-type bag as before. He glanced up when Naruto approached, and-

Well, he didn't smile exactly.

Or really at all.

But Naruto was pretty sure that he'd blinked a bit, and that was something! Besides, he already knew how weird and shy Sai was, even if he didn't have a talking problem like Hinata, and a blink might be how shy people said hello, and so it was a really good thing, and besides it didn't really matter anyway because Sai was the one who asked him to come and that meant that they could be friends, and Iruka-sensei was really awesome sometimes but he just didn't get that Sai was one of the good guys, and he wasn't evil or dangerous or anything, dattebayo!

And even if Sai wasn't smiling- well. That was no big deal.

What mattered was that there wasn't even a hint of a scowl.

Sai didn't wince when he saw Naruto. He didn't avert his gaze. He didn't flinch. Smirk. Glare. Frown. He didn't cross his arms or press his lips together. He didn't look scared, or contemptuous, or dismissive, or awkward, or ashamed. His eyes were empty, but they didn't have even a spark of hatred. He didn't ignore him, or pretend to be asleep. He didn't look startled when Naruto opened his mouth, as if Naruto were some sub-human class of being that couldn't speak intelligibly. He didn't snicker when Naruto walked by.

And that was nice.

So Naruto's smile widened, and he waved cheerfully as he approached. "Yo!"

Sai opened his mouth.

* * *

_In appearance, 'Sai' is male, between the ages of seven and nine. He is not notable in appearance, with the possible exception of very pale skin. His hair and eyes are black, and his hair is cropped to his ears. He wore simple black clothing and possessed a shoulder bag of uncertain content. I have determined that his features are not the result of genjutsu; however, it may be the result of a higher-level medical restructuring jutsu__._

_Objectively, he is quiet in demeanor and precise in his movements. He is in accordance with the reports suggesting that he has an unusually developed vocabulary for someone of his supposed age. He is rather small, considering, and does not seem to have an abundance of muscle tissue- at a visual guess, I'd say he's slightly stronger than your average civilian child and much weaker than your average shinobi child. He does not have any blatant demarcations as a shinobi or mercenary in trade, and his clothing was similar to that made in the villages near Konoha.  
_

_Subjectively, I wouldn't trust him with my worst enemy. And I definitely wouldn't play poker with him._

* * *

The target was smiling as he approached.

Taking this as an external signal of nonviolent intention to interact- as he supposed it was intended- Sai relaxed slightly and shifted slightly out of his self-defense stance. It seemed moderately unlikely that the jinchuriki was concealing his true intention to attack, and in any case, Sai was certain that he would be able to react with adequate spare time if his judgment was mistaken.

"Yo!" called the target. "Hey, Sai!"

"Hello."

Naruto made a sudden movement.

Sai tensed.

Then the blond child suddenly whipped out a small, metallic object clenched in a childish fist.

Sai jerked back, skidding into a defensive position, mind racing- _the Commander never anticipated this in his predictions; unfortunate, but escape is the highest priority. If they can get my body, they can trace me- has the jinchuriki been trained previously? Doubtless, they'd never send him out to fight if he hadn't been. Assume ANBU level or higher until otherwise determined, retreat at all costs, they can't have gathered so much info so quickly._

Then he stopped and actually looked for half a minute.

And his brain paused just long enough for him to hesitate.

And then, while his mind was still stuck on _wait, what kind of a weapon is that_ because he'd honestly never seen anything like it, and while his feet were still stubbornly, stupidly locked in place, the target- Naruto- piped up brightly.

"Yo-yo!" he said with a grin. "For the lessons."

Sai gaped.

His brain stuttered, stumbled. Spun in uncomprehending dismay as he waited for some smidgen of information that might bring illumination on the subject. And then at last, stopped. Sheer conditioned _reflex_ made him pause, review the last few seconds of his auditory recall, decipher sounds and inflections to review the actual words and analyze for meaning.

Then one word, sounding like mere gibberish, triggered a neural recall path.

_"A toy sort of thing_", Uzumaki had said.

And then_, __"I'll teach you._".

Sai's brain seized on the one familiar fragment and resumed its normal activity.

_Nonviolent intentions are still likely. This was a false alarm due to incorrect conclusions on the part of the agent. _An unforgivable offense, for one who was supposed to be undercover. Sai, the innocent war orphan, should have reacted with mild surprise and curiosity, not full alert. He would have to report this shortcoming to the unit commander upon his return, and would undoubtedly be subjected to further correction.

But now was the time to salvage the situation.

"I see," he said. "Shall we commence the art lessons?"

* * *

_Uzumaki and 'Sai' exchanged pleasantries, and a weirder conversation I've never heard in my live. Then the two of them arranged themselves in the grass in the clearing, under a tall oak tree. I took a position in the tree to one side, to provide for for the unknown sensory capabilities of the enemy element. At this point, Sai produced several items from his bag, including scrolls, brushes, and ink. None of the items appeared to be intentionally dangerous, and Sai showed little intent of using them to endanger Uzumaki, so I decided not to intervene.  
_

* * *

"All right," Sai began. "Do you have any prior experience?"

Naruto's face was blank.

"Have you ever attempted to draw something before?" Sai clarified. "Have you sought to create a two-dimensional linear representation of a physical artifact or structure?" He watched Naruto's expression, but the blond boy's eyebrows only furrowed more as he bit his lip.

"Um. No?"

"And calligraphy?"

"What?"

Sai frowned. "Please specify whether it is the vocabulary or the concept that troubles you before making an inquiry," he said, eerily void of any trace of irritation.

"Um, vocabulary?"

"Calligraphy is the form of writing most commonly used among merchants, businessmen, lawyers, and educated middle-to-upper class civilians. It is also commonly used in scholarly works; scrolls, books- and in legal documents. Many circles consider it a higher art form and devote much time and energy to its perfection. It is a vital skill to possess for anyone involved in politics or business. Used generally, the term may refer to handwriting or penmanship."

"Oh."

"Clearly you still lack some aspect of understanding," Sai observed. "You are displaying an expression that denotes dismay."

"Why?" Naruto asked. Catching Sai's eye, he corrected himself. "Concept, I mean."

"The study of calligraphy is found to be an effective exercise for absolute beginners," -Sai ignored Naruto's bristling- "and promotes the cultivation of skills which may be advantageously applied to other aspects of brushwork."

"Wh-" the blond paused. "Vocabulary?"

"Calligraphy as a skill emphasizes the use of brushwork that it detailed, precise, and effortless. These qualities are invaluable to an artist, especially as a novice. When you begin to draw contour drawings in ink- the ideal first step for a beginner, once an acceptable degree of skill has been accomplished- it is important that all your strokes are swift and sure."

"Uh-_huh_."

Sai surveyed Naruto's face, which he was beginning to suspect was being kept carefully blank.

"I suppose you may be better served by practice than by explanation," he said decisively. "In that case, we should begin our lesson as soon as may be permitted. Do you have any further inquiries to make?"

Naruto brightened noticeably. "Let's start!"

Sai reached across the grass to where his bag lay partly open. He deftly extracted some plain scrolls with red and green borders, the cheap kind that could be bought at any general store. Then he tugged on the end of a cylindrical aluminum container. The lid came off with a pop and when he tilted it, several brushes of moderate quality slid into his palm. He knew better than to waste his good brushes on a beginner- and brushes were valuable.

He tossed one of the brushes to Naruto, who examined it with open curiosity.

* * *

_'Sai' appeared to be entirely focused on the supposed topic at hand; an 'art lesson', according to both parties. _

_There were no interactions that could be definitively classified as aggressive. If he (or she) knew that I was watching, there was no distinct physical acknowledgement. Likewise, 'Sai' did not press Uzumaki for information, classified or otherwise. I could discern no attempts at flattery, bribery, or obviously subversive rhetoric. Rather, it seemed that 'Sai' was treating Uzumaki with a pointedly cool demeanor, while Uzumaki was hanging onto his every word._

_He does appear to have some significant experience with visual art, to the extent that his knowledge can be viewed as downright anomalous. It is possible that he (or she) is some sort of child genius, or merely exceedingly talented. This does not rule out the possibility that he was employed as a forger for documents or for artwork. The likelihood that he was an unusually talented civilian child who merely happened to be in the same vicinity as the Kyubi jinchuriki in time to befriend him and arrange future meetings is so unlikely that it might as well be dismissed out of hand. _

_Seriously: No. Freaking. Way._

_You may quote me on that._

* * *

"That is by far the worst attempt at writing _anything_ that I have ever seen," Sai commented, voice mild. "I can't even tell what it's supposed to look like."

Naruto glanced down in dismay.

He _knew _his handwriting wasn't very good. Iruka-sensei got on his case about it almost every day. Iruka'd only just begun teaching them the real hard kanji, anyway, but he wasn't even good with his hiragana. Most of the other kids had learned it at home or from tutors or just had gone to civilian school before starting the Academy. And, well, there _had_ been some teachers at the orphanage.

But they'd done stuff like tell stories and play games and sing songs. _And _the teacher people had only come around once a week. Hokage-jiji had said that they were volunteers, so they couldn't teach all the time.

Naruto hadn't learned any hiragana before going to the Academy, and when Iruka had started teaching, he'd gone so quickly that Naruto hadn't had time to keep up. And he just wasn't any good at learning those kinds of things, anyway. Reading, writing, and 'rithmetic- ha. He liked fighting, even if he lost kind of a lot compared to the other kids. At least it was doing something. Words on paper just slipped away the instant he tried to seize them.

"Whatever," Naruto mumbled shamefacedly. "It's just writing anyway."

"It isn't important," agreed Sai, "if you don't need to learn to draw."

Ouch. That stung.

Naruto raised his gaze to meet Sai's, burning with hurt. "Well, I guess I'm just stupid, then," he spat, anger coloring his words. "Looks like you'll have to go away and find someone else to teach."

"I'd rather not."

"How come?"

"As your teacher, it is my duty to see this lesson through." The dark gaze was unrelenting. "If I cannot succeed in my mission, then I will have failed."

"No way!" Naruto protested despite himself. "If I can't draw or even write good, that's not your fault! It's just that I'm no good."

"Nevertheless, such is the state of the world."

"Oh yeah? So what's stopping you from just leaving right now? No one's watching! No one cares!"

Sai watched him in silence.

"I guess- I care, a little," admitted the blond boy.

"As do I."

"Why? It's not your problem! You shouldn't care. I'll bet you never wanted to learn to yo-yo in the first place. I'll bet you just-"

"Tell me," interrupted the dark-haired boy with a gaze like ice, "Have you never felt a compulsion to hold yourself accountable that your actions are consistent with your spoken indications of your intended actions?"

"Huh?"

"I believe some people call it 'holding true to your word'."

Naruto shifted uneasily. "Sure, I've heard of that. So what?"

"Just this, Naruto Uzumaki. I have promised to teach you to draw. Having thus given my word, I am bound to do my utmost to achieve that end."

Naruto thought he knew what was coming.

Dark eyes flashed.

"Giving up five minutes into the first lesson is not nearly enough. Let us begin again."

* * *

_In general (and with the exception of a slightly wounded pride), Uzumaki emerged from the event unscathed.  
_

_I don't know what happened with the other agents you set to follow 'Sai' back to home, or headquarters, or wherever that kid appeared from, but I lost track of him not half a minute after he took off. As per my orders, I followed Uzumaki back to his place of residence, where he promptly fell asleep. I also took the liberty of closing and locking his front door behind him, as he completely forgot this precaution. I do not think he will notice in the morning. While standing guard, I composed the majority of this report.  
_

_My personal opinion on the situation is that Sai is a sneaky little mouse that's running errands for a big bad wolf out there somewhere. He is absolutely trained, in stealth at the very least, and likely in other covert techniques. I think that Sai is _probably_ not an assassin, but that's still a bit iffy. He's absolutely got a higher agenda, and I think he should be removed from Uzumaki's life now. As in NOW._

_Oh, and another thing._

_Get someone else to do it._

_END MISSION REPORT_

* * *

"What's up, Sai?" Shin asked, leaning on the door frame casually.

"I am writing a mission report," said Sai.

Shin rolled his eyes. "I can see that, twerp," he said with a snort. "That's not what I asked, and you know it."

"I'm afraid you will have to clarify your-" Sai paused. "-clarify your inquiry."

"There!" His older brother exclaimed, standing upright with a triumphant air. "You just did it _again_. You can't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! You just did it. You're acting way off from your usual self." Shin put on an awkward air that was evidently intended to represent his younger brother. "_Clarify your- clarify your inquiry~!_"

"I do not know to what you are referring," Sai said blandly.

But he did. He knew exactly which behavioral patterns his Onii-san was commenting on, and he knew that such anomalous behavior would be perceived by the other trainee members of their squad, and that they would undoubtedly report such a discrepancy to the Unit Leader. He'd have more demerits in one day than he'd received in the entire year prior. It would be a permanent stain on his perfect record, and if he wanted to remedy it, he should report in to the behavioral therapy clinic for further conditioning.

He didn't want to.

He knew he should, he knew it was expected of him, but he didn't want to.

His mind said yes, his heart said no, and his legs flatly refused to move another inch.

So he sat at his writing table, composing a cold, clinical report on the day's events. Obediently reporting every last detail, from Uzumaki's height and weight to his speaking patterns to his diet, and even hazarding a guess as to his favorite shoe store. Everything was perfect. The perfect stealth, the perfect subterfuge, the perfect reconnaissance, and the perfect betrayal.

Because Sai would never fall short of perfection.

And all the while, he smiled a small, warm smile.

He clung to the heat and light of the afternoon's memories. The brilliance of the smile, the dejected expression that brightened at the slightest hint of praise, and the lit eyes that radiated happiness. It was something warm streaming out of a tiny spot inside of him, and he reveled in it, like a child in the winter's first snowfall. It was hot, burning, searing- but it was something strong. Something beautiful.

In his closed fist, he held a dented disc of cheap aluminum, tied with a thin white string that was looped tightly about its core. A yo-yo.

And he wrote.


End file.
